


Under Advisment

by Jonathan_D_Allard



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Hunters & Hunting, Spencer and Stiles are cosins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23566174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jonathan_D_Allard/pseuds/Jonathan_D_Allard
Summary: Morgan can't sleep when he gets a stange call from Spencer, making him believe he is about to help cover up a crime and get rid of a dead body.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Derek Morgan & Spencer Reid, Spencer Reid & Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 12
Kudos: 116





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Polaris_Stella](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polaris_Stella/gifts).



Its' the middle of the night, when it happens. Morgan feels drunk on sleeplessness, Hank wont sleep and Savannah works more then she should. But, that is the job. Morgan knew that before they started seeing each other, they both loved their jobs, even when they got married or had a baby. It’s the fact that Morgan don’t have a job that he loves anymore, which means he is home more hours. It is Morgan that takes care of Hanks midnight feeding or cry flips. Hank can cry without end, there is no medical reason for it, they had him to a lot of different doctors that all said the same, he was a healthy baby. That didn’t help them much, it still meant poor hours of sleep.  
  
Morgan when to the kitchen to get a beer, Clooney following on his heals as he opens the patio door. He sits on the wooden bench and looks up into the starry night, it’s cold enough that he grabbed a blanked on the way out.  
He loved the being with the BAU, being a part of the FBI. Now he works in a Walmart, making sure the customer gets what they want. It hadn’t been easy to leave the FBI or the entire world of potential violence behind. He had promised his son he would come home each night.  
  
He had started out working at a gym, training people, but it felt to close to the teaching he had done at the academy, he even saw his former coworkers when working. It had been too much. Morgan had quit his job; he might still train in that same gym to keep a little in touch with his old life. The clean cut had done him good; he didn’t hear as much of what made him want to work with the FBI. Mostly when he met old coworkers in the gym, they would now talk normal stuff, like kids, movies and were to go on vacation.  
  
Morgan always kept his promises even if it meant he would be mindlessly bored. Giving up that job was giving up a piece of himself, that job had been the purpose of his life. It still was his calling to help people, but with what happened to Hotch and Haylie, after Morgan getting tortured and Savannah getting short at. Morgan had known that his purpose in life would take away exactly that, his life.  
Morgan took a sip from the beer and rested his head against the stone wall, he looked up to the sky. And as he did, he felt himself slip away, into his own head, away from the emptiness he felt even if he was supposed to be happy here.  
  
Morgan felt the vibration in the pocket of his PJ’s. He pulls it out and takes it before looking at the display. He is more awake then he has been for the last months. Morgan had gotten these calls enough times to know Penelope is calling them with a new case.  
  
"Talk to me mama." Derek says  
  
“Garcia are you there?" still nothing, only a skanking breath. It is only when Morgan truly remembers the reality, Garcia wouldn’t be calling him for a new case, not anymore.  
  
Derek takes the phone away from his ear and lookers on the display.

**-Reid**

Morgan knows Spencer wouldn't call at this time unless it was something urgent. Spencer never calls, not even when he gets through in prison.

"Reid, you’re there?"

"Yes..." His voice is shaking and out of breath. Morgan immediately grows concerned sits ramrod straight, feeling the excitement, the adrenalin is pumping out in his system.

"What’s up Reid?" Morgan said in a calm voice. He might be worried, but he was still able to find his professional calm voice.

"Derek... I..!” Just those two words had his head fly into a panic.

"Spencer are you using again?" Morgan asks softy

"No, I... forget I called."

"Spencer! Please tell me what’s wrong." The cold is starting to bite Morgan’s feet, fingers and nose.

"Nothing."

"You wouldn't call me if nothing is wrong." Morgan is only met with silence; the call hasn't been disconnected yet. Which means Spencer on some leaves want to tell him.

"You know I will do anything to help you.” Morgan is already waking back into the kitchen, he troughs the blanked careless on the couch. Clooney is already inside, sleeping on that same couch. Morgan can’t help but smile at the silly dog lying on his back with legs in every direction. In moments like this he regretted giving in to Savannahs want, in not having the Pitbull in the furniture.

"Anything?" Morgan thanked God to hear the small amount of hope in Spencer’s voice.

"Anything, Pretty Boy. Anything, but hiding dead bodies." Morgan hopes the joke will lighten the mood. But it doesn't, somehow there is a shift in the silence. When Spencer had been reluctant before he was now anxious. The tenseness only carries on for about half a minute, but it is enough. The line rattles.

"We are going to figure something out, bye Morgan!” A voice not belonging to his friend said into the phone before hanging up.

It takes a moment for Morgan to understand what is happening and when he dos he is about to call Spencer back. But he knows it will leave a trace, something to track if Garcia were to look into Morgan helping Spencer. That is when they get caught, scratch that, if they were to get caught. Morgan rushes to his car, drives and parks two blocks away from Reid’s place. There is a convenient store on the corner that is still open, Morgan has to have a suitable alibi, if they get caught.  
  
Morgan takes a deep breath and takes a moment to set the scene, he is out buying diapers, his wife is angry because he forgot earlier, and they don’t have anymore. The story he made up fits, its reasonable and believable. The store is reasonably close enough to defend driving there instead of any of the other convenience stores. He could just say it was a reflex going there when woken at 1 in the morning to go get diapers, he had used to drive this road when being tired. He had lost count of how many times he had picked Reid up for work or dropped him off after a long hard case.  
Morgan went into the store and found the right size that would fit Hank, paid with card. Paying cash wound only raise suspicion if they found out. They were bound to find out, they always did. No one got away for ever he just hoped Spencer would. With his big brain and their comebined knowledge, they would be able to make anything disappear.

“The wife?” Morgan gets a sympathetic look from the man at the register as he pays.

  
“When a mother need something to her baby, she can be downright scary.” Morgan smiles and plays his part.

He feels the need to rush out and let his instinct take over, but he remains calm. He only show the expressions he normally would show in this exchange. He goes back to his car and drives is bit further down the road to park it in a blind spot of the traffic cams. Then he walks nearly runs the rest of the way, avoiding anyone and staying in the shadows never letting the cameras, he can’t avoid, see his face. As he walked, he couldn’t help but think what he was doing he committing a felony. A big one at that, accessory to covering up would give him about as may years in prison if he had done the crime himself.  
He might have made promises to his son, but he had made promises to Reid first. He was family long before Savannah or Hank came into the picture.

Morgan wondered where his relationship with Reid and turned out like this. He probably made the decision to do anything for Spencer a long time ago. When he finely gets there, he runs up the stairs. Morgan went to use the key Reid gave him, from when Spencer had trouble with his sobriety. The strange thing is, he finds the door unlocked with a bloody handprint on the doorway, it has Morgan flying into the apartment.

  
" Spencer?! Morgan calls out as he steps through the door. Whishing he had his gun with him.

"Derek?" His voice is high pitched and nerves, Morgan searches the apartment as fast as he can, relying on training making sure there is no treats. One can never be too careful, Morgan had seen many agents die because someone had gotten sloppy when searching the premises. There hadn't been a struggle, not enough things where tossed about for that. The blood trail from the door didn't help his panicked heart go down. He rushed to follow it to the bathroom. On the floor is a man that looks be slashed and shot multiple times.

Morgan has seen a lot of disturbing thing, mutilated bodies of both men and women. Even dead children in all stasis of composition. This body in Spencer’s bathroom is the worst he had ever seen. His friend is covered in blood, the smell of it is enough to make his stomach turn. Its still dripping from his fingers, but it isn’t red or runny it is think and has the thick consists of sirup, its thick and black, is smells like rot and death.

“Oh stop being so worried, just give him half an hour and a pillow and he will be fresh as a daisy.” Morgan looked from the strange nearly naked man, to Spencer that is sitting with shaking hands, to the young man sitting on the toilet rubbing his bandage hand.

Golden brown yes gleaming with intelligence and humor. The worst part was that he recognized the guy. Morgan had been his hand to hand instructor mot more than two months ago. Back then he had looked a little different, he hadn’t had a baby faced newly shaved face or clean fresh haircut. He looked younger when he didn’t have the long-ragged hair and wild beard.  
Nothing about the recruit had set any alarm clocks off. That scared Morgen more than getting the call from or getting tortured, Morgan being a profiler found it alarming he had missed the delusional psychopath sitting in front of him. He had spent more than one session with the recruit and had even though highly of him. The young man kept sitting there as if everything was normal. It brought and shill to his spine. Morgan wasn’t even sure he wanted to know, but he needed to, if he were to help, he needed to know everything.

“What happened?”

“I don’t know” Reid said as he kept steering on the corps, that was still slowly bleeding on the bathroom tiles. Morgan then looked to his former student, Stilinski he remembered, not really expecting an answer from him. This must be some kind of a sick delusion. Morgan didn’t believe a word that came out of his mouth. He didn’t make that mistake again.  
As horrible as everything was, Morgan felt alive. It felt god to be back.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles was bone tired. Going through the academy was no joke. It was hard work, but it was design to be a tough training program. Stiles enjoyed it, he was good at everything, even his fitness had improved enough to he wasn’t near dying when he tried to run a mile.  
Running with Derek that summer had really help him get ready, loosing his toe had taken time to heal and the pain of losing a body part, would flare up from time to time. The medical leave he had from the academy, he use to train, and make sure he would still be in relative shape when coming back.

  
Stiles and Derek would go for a lot runs, on Stiles good days they would run long and hard bud on his on bad days Derek would help him hobble home when it flared up. Stiles knew he was pushing himself and he new it was a necessity, he needed to know his own limits, to on how fast or how long he could run, but how much pain he could take before it would break him. It couldn’t help if he was out in the field with a cramp or a bullet wound and not being able to do his job. Stiles had on one of his first training sessions after his foot was healed up gone on out on his own. That had resulted in him falling when the slight pain had become a cramp that had seized his whole leg. Stiles hadn’t wanted to worry his dad or Lydia; Scott would make fun of it and Stiles wasn’t ready for that.  
So, he had called Derek and demanded him to come pick him up and drive him home, since its Derek fault he was missing a toe in the first way. Derek had shown up not many minutes later, helping Stiles into the car and driving him home. He had even helped Stiles up the driveway and into the living room.  
He had found some painkillers, with the help of Stiles instructions a glass of water and hesitates before he had left.

  
Derek didn’t really associate with the rest of the pack, not since he came back after Stiles had help exonerate him for a mass murder of hunters.  
Even if Stiles and Derek they didn’t talk much on their runs they became closer. Stiles couldn’t figure out when they har become the kind of friends that stayed just a little too close for other people’s comfort.  
Stiles didn’t mind when Derek would scent mark his neck. At first Stiles hadn’t even court on to it, it had been a pad on the back with Derek’s hand briefly dashing over the scruff of his neck. It had been Lydia that had pointed it out to him after a night in when they lay naked in bed together. Stiles had just shrugged it off as a wolf thing.

  
Oh Boy had he been wright, it was not just a wolf thing, but also a Derek thing. After Stiles’ mutual breakup with Lydia. Yep you heard right, breakup. The breakup had come to a shock to everyone because they were in love and everything had finely worked out, aside for the whole only seeing each other on weekends that had turned out to be only once a few months with short phone calls in between. They had agreed that they would give it a short again if neither of them found anyone when Lydia was done with her doctorate.  
Even if it had been mutual it still hurt Stiles enough to send him running, metaphorical of cause, back to Quantico. Witch had led Stiles to accidently bumping into someone he never thought he would ever meet, he knew he had a cousin on his mothers side. His dad had lost contact with his aunt even before Claudia had died.

It turns out Stiles had been rather young when he had first met Spencer, young enough not remember it. But bumping into the professor at the halls had jogged something in him, a memory of a kind. It had the surprise of the year when Stiles had recognized were, he had seen that face before. It wasn’t like they were the mirror images of one another, but if you looked deeply at both of them you would see they both had the same upturned nose, cheekbones and eyes.  
That was what had Stiles eyes linger for a moment more then it should for someone you accidentally nearly took down in a hallway. It hadn’t been at first sight Stiles had recognized him it for who he is, it had taken days of a nagging mind and a lecture on criminal behavior for Stiles to see it.

The way Reid moved and the way he tapped his fingers when irritated at some of the other students, that was when he had realized he had forgotten how his mother used to look like. It all fell into place, the recognition earlier that week was now clear, Stiles had seen a piece of himself in what was a stranger’s face. That had Stiles reaching his broken head away. He found everything out about Spencer Reid he could. It became his new obsession, in a not freaky and serial killer way. But more of the “Lydia Martin” way of ‘I want to get to know you an there by everything about you’.

  
One night after a long day for Stiles, Derek and stood on his doorstep unannounced. Derek had looked sullen and broody. Stiles hadn’t said anything, remembering the date. They had watched a movie on Stiles computer from the comfort of the small queens sized bed, much to Stiles’ roommate annoyance Derek had stayed and slept the night.  
It had been very PG, not any inappropriate touching, cuddling or kissing had happened but somehow all the cadets had whispered about his exonerated mass murder of a boyfriend sleeping over. Stiles could see how their relationship could seem to others, but they were just friends and Stiles was probably the only thing Derek had that categorized as pack.  
Stiles had welcomed the company, he had felt lonely after his breakup and fining out you have a family member that don’t know you exist didn’t help the feeling either. Stiles let the other cadets talk, he took the teasing with good humor and focused on training when whey had classes. Because he welcomed the closes of the strange brotherly relationship they had seamed to evolve.  
Derek would come and visit more often than Lydia ever had, and they would do ordinary things together, like go on runs and other stuff. Go to the movies, see sports games together, Derek would indulge Stiles in his childish behavior and bring comics for them to read or rare books on the supernatural from the Hale vault. They would just hang, whenever Stiles had free time.

That had continued until someone, deranged hunter, yep another one. Followed Stiles to one of their hang outs and attacked him and Derek. They mange to get away, but Derek had been in bad shape. Taking most of the heat will do that. They had needed a place to lay low. That was how Stiles ended breaking and entering into his cousins apartment late at night with a blood spell. Helping the bleeding Derek to the bathroom and treating his wolfsbane wounds. Stiles had gotten a habit of carrying both wolfsbane and mountain ash, for situations like these were some supernatural assistance were needed. Something he hadn’t expected was Reid coming home and freaking out about the corps like Derek on the tiled bathroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im not wery good at uptating. So don't get to invested in this story...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry but not sorry. Written insted of sleeping, so be prepared for mistakes. Don' hate me to much...

Spencer had had a long and challenging week. Another serial killer court and put behind bars, awaiting justice for his crimes. Spencer was glad he was on his way home to his own bed. He did find it satisfying to catch serial killers and work out profiles on the human mind, but constantly being on the move sleeping in different motel beds got old pretty fast, especially when the nightmares would come and tear him awake reaching for his gun whenever we woke in places that wasn’t his own home.

There is a difference to working with the mare theoretical and seeing the newly found victims of those crimes. Spencer always found it easier to deal with older, gushy, and rotting remains. It took far more imagination to see a pile of rotting meat and visible bones as a person. A person with hopes and dreams, with wishes, dislikes, fears, and unique personal quirks. But seeing them fresh and only just going cold was something entirely diff rent.  
Even if Spencer had seen a lot of dead people in photos and in real life, even killed some himself. It still got to him when the corpses looked so close to being alive, that they could just get up and go on with their lives. This case had been one of those cases, where the bodies were people.

It was cases like this that Spencer misses Morgan’s heavy hand on his shoulder in silent support. Or the jokes they would banter to keep their mods from growing to dark, to keep them both from looking to long into the abyss of the human shadow side.  
He knew why Morgan had to leave, why he couldn’t stay. Spencer understood, but that didn't stop him from missing his best friend terribly.

Spencer shook it of as he stepped of the metro. What would it help to bring it home with him? He couldn’t changes things, but he could stop them from happening again, that was why he himself stayed in this life, stayed with the violence, torture and the murder.  
Spencer walked the last of the way to his apartment listening to music, clearing all the horrible things out of the for front of his mind.

Everything was as it should be, normal, ordinary, boring. It was a relief go get off the street and into the in the hall of his apartment building. Here he was safe, so he turned of his paranoid tendency to notice everything. Everything was so normal and boring he didn’t see it, not until he pulled his key out to unluck his door he saw something that should have screamed at him, as he had gotten up the stairs. The sense of security crumpled, his heard started to freak out, beating faster than ever before. Spencer had always had control here in his own home, he was always prepared in the outside world for thing like this, but not in his bubble of safety. Spencer reached for his gun with sweaty hands as he saw the bloody handprint on the door frame. The next step he takes makes him look down to the small pool of blood he just stepped in

What had happened? Who was in his apartment? Fear was pumping through his veins as he slowly opened the door and moved in, this time not letting his eyes get blinded by the familiarity of the places we know, the routine that trick our with eyes with blindness to anything out of place.

Over the music still playing from the headphones around his neck, Reid heard growling from the bathroom and a voice with the same intensity of parent scolding a child.

"Stop being such a Sourwolf and lie still so I can find the bullets and stop them poisoning you!"

"Stiles I swear it you..." another voice, deeper rougher with grown of pain, sounding more like a growl.

Spencer walks closer to the bathroom door. Opening it wide with a kick. It reveals a nearly naked and bloody man propped up against his bathtub. Before Reid really registers who, the noise belonged to, a gun is pointed at the side of his head. He sees it in just the corner of his eye. The young man holding it looks, well young and soft. Like someone that should be hanging out at the beach playing wallyball or in a library studying for school. Not holding a gun on a feudal agent in his own home.

"A little warning would have been great" The young man says own his shoulder to the bleeding one on the floor.

"How do you expect me to give you a warning when I have a round wolfsbane bullets in me?!" The bleeding man spit fiery. As if getting shot is an everyday occupation despite the pain. Spencer looks back at the gun, assessing if he should try and snap it out of the young mans had. Reid sees they are red and sticky. The way he holds the gone though is tells read a lot. All professional and military like, like it is an extension of him. He holds it with the same experience and confidence Morgan or Hotch possess. It tells Reid something important, the young man is dangerous.

"Put down the gun." he says. "I don't wanna shoot you." Spencer looks him over, there is no hidden lies in his face. That grip was the one they were taught in Quantico and a realization hits Spencer like a truck. He had seen the face of the gun man among his students at the lectures at the academy. He recognized the young man as M. Stillinski, a cadet in training. Spencer didn't understand why he was here or what he wanted, but by the looks of it he had been in the middle op pulling bullets out of the man behind him.

"Put the gun down." He said again with more authority this time. Spencer went with his instincts and put his away. He knew enough of the young man to trust he would not shoot him. Besides shoot offs isn’t one of Reid strong suites, he is better at talk downs, so gives his serves gun to Stilinski and watches how he puts away both guns in his jeans.

"Great. Now help get these bullets out of Derek." He says as he walks over and gets down on the floor to the still breading man.

"We should call an ambulance." There is too much blood, it made Reid’s stomach turn. He is already on the floor too. Applying pressure to the ones he can reach.  
  


“Better not, it would be rather awkward when he starts healing." Stiles laughed already digging in the open wound with his fingers, as it nothing new. The mand bleeding only flinches slightly a few times and growls, still very much awake.  
  
The blood under Spencer’s hands started getting darker end darker until it was a thick black substance. Reid had seen a lot of strange things, but this was something entirely different.

“Oh shit!” Stilinski said working faster, digging a lot less gentle in the wounds. To Reid it looks like he was crawling them out.

“Find a lighter and a knife.” the order was harsh and urgent.

“What?” Reid knew what he was feeling, it wasn’t panic or fear, he was one step away from going catatonic.

“Fuck it.” the cadet said and started running for the door.

“Where are you going.” Screamed the little part of panic Reid had left.

“I need a knife to cut out the last two, there to deep. Then I need the flame to burn the wolfsbane!” He yelled out from the kitchen. Spencer took out his phone and found morgans number as the first calling him.

"Reid, you’re there?"

"Yes..." His voice is shaking and out of breath, holding the phone and trying to stop the pleading of the fainted man was more than he was cable of. There was so much running through his mind, too much to deal with. The lights grew to bright and his skin felt to tight to fit in. Spencer knew he was having an internal melt down. He just hoped Morgan would figure it out and help him.

"What’s up Reid?" Morgan said in a calm voice.

"Derek... I..!” Spencer choked on his tongue.

"Spencer are you using again?" Morgan asks softy, cadet Stilinski was back with the longest slimmest knife Spencer owns.

"No, I... forget I called." Reid tried to hide the phone away in fear of being wrong about the young man maybe he would stab him with it instead of his friend.

"Spencer! Please tell me what’s wrong." Morgan sounded like he is getting worked up.

"Nothing." Stilinski worked fast on the last two wounds

"You wouldn't call me if nothing is wrong." Spencer didn’t say anything. "You know I will do anything to help you.”

"Anything?" Reid asked thinking he might have to help get rid of this soon to be corps.

"Anything, Pretty Boy. Anything, but hiding dead bodies." Morgan joked to lighten the mood. But it doesn't, somehow there is a shift in the silence. When Spencer had been reluctant before he was now anxious.

“Give me that” mumbles Stilinski as he grapples for the phone. "We are going to figure something out, bye Morgan!” he says before hanging up, troughing the phone over his shoulder. His hand goes hunting in his pocket he seems to find what he is looking, he pulls out a small bag of it looks to be drugs, _wait is that tried flowers?_ Is all Reid gets to thinking, when Stilinski pours the content out in his hand and burns it. Why the burning or the use of flower petals when the man is bleeding to death with black blood. Stilinski shouldn’t be stuffing the ashes in the wounds he should be calling an ambulance. Reid shouldn’t have called Derek; he should have called the dam authorities. If the man dies its his fault. He looks at the wounds and his sanity leaves him with hysterical laughter, because some of them had already grown smaller.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment please. ;D

**Author's Note:**

> What do you guys think happend?


End file.
